


100 Years

by wintertales



Category: Ripper Street
Genre: F/M, New Year's Eve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-23 00:31:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17672996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintertales/pseuds/wintertales
Summary: Edmund spent the night alone in his office and gets a surprise when he returns home.Modern AU - post season 5 finale





	100 Years

**Author's Note:**

> Some of you might know the mordern au Mimi x Edmund Moodboard on tumblr and here is the story
> 
> Changed a few details (beside the millennium obviously) but hope you like it :)

It was the first morning of the new millennium. The sun had hardly begun to risen in the east. The streets of Whitechapel for once empty. The signs of the last night still visible on the sidewalks as he continued his walk home lost in his thoughts.

He wasn’t one of the many people who believed that the new year would bring some big changes as soon as the clock hit midnight. Neither would the world end, nor would all problems be forgotten. He knew life didn’t work like this. His wife dead, one of his two best friends murdered and the other one living thousands of miles away on the other side of the ocean – joy and happiness weren’t frequent visitors in his life.

Sure, there were others he hung out with from time to time, his worked he liked doing, hobbies, but at the end of the day he was alone. Lonely. Even more as also the last person, he called a good friend, had left him the day before.

He hadn’t even been able to blame her. Still wasn’t. Whitechapel wasn’t the place one wanted to live in forever. Its dark past and current crimes always present. Perhaps the place wasn’t worse than others in London and elsewhere if one would only look at the statistics (he knew them all) but still there was an aura surrounding it which made it darker than every other place he had ever been too.

_If I’m still in Whitechapel at midnight…_

She had to leave, she had said. Otherwise she would be in Whitechapel for another hundred years, he remembered her words. No one wanted that. He understood. But yet, it broke his heart.

He hadn’t even realised how much she meant to him until she said goodbye. Of course, she had always been a wonderful friend, and he hoped he had been the same for her, but he hadn’t seen how much she had been part of his life. How much he needed her. He only had himself to blame now.

Some would have said he was a fool for not going after her. Telling her to stay. With him. But who was he to keep her away from her happiness? He wasn’t more than a simple policeman with a far too dark past. No, she deserved better and if she would be happy at a different place, a different job and even a different man, he would be happy for her. She deserved happiness in her life. Not many managed to leave this place behind – he had tried once – but he was sure she could. She was strong enough. Always had been.

He continued his way with that thought in his mind. She would be happy. That’s all he needed.

He hadn’t realised how tired he actually was before he had stepped out of into the cold of Leman Street. Spending the most important day in a hundred years at work, perhaps hadn’t been the smartest idea he ever had, but it still had been better than all alternatives. Partying with friends or colleagues – never had been his thing. A drink or two maybe, but never more. Losing control wasn’t a thing he liked or enjoyed. A concert – He hadn’t seen anything he liked in the papers or online and so he hadn’t bothered to get tickets. Home – Of course that was always an option. A drink. A good book. But it also was a lonely place and he hadn’t wanted that that night. So, he had ended up in his office. Alone. With his files.

Maybe he should have gotten a coffee somewhere, he wondered. Something to eat too. He was sure he hadn’t anything at home. Oatmeal perhaps. Tea. He was able to take care of himself. He had to. But sometimes, between work and other obligations, he didn’t really find the time and motivation to head to a shop for grocery shopping. He would just eat whatever he had at home, he wasn’t picky, or get something during the day close to his work. Thankfully some people had realised that hungry policeman made good customers and so he found little places to eat all around. Even healthy food. He liked that.

But on the first day of January nearly all of the shops around were still closed. And why wouldn’t they, he thought. Most people were still fast asleep in their beds, or someone else’s, with no intention to leave their houses anytime soon. Unlike him, who even had taken an extra tour around the block, just to avoid going home a little longer. He told himself that a walk was good for him. He spent way too much time sitting behind his desk anyway and he had hardly found the time to work out lately. A run here and there. Maybe that was something he should take more serious during the upcoming year, he wondered. People liked making new year’s resolutions. He didn’t. He never got why people needed a certain date to make changes in their lives, but perhaps it would work. And January first was as good as any other day.

Lost in his thoughts and his head facing the sidewalk to avoid the cold wind, he hadn’t seen her until he reached the house, he lived in. A small house. His flat even smaller. But he wouldn’t have changed it. What more did he need? More space to clean – for sure not.

“Happy New Year, Edmund.” She smiled at him brightly. She had taken him by surprise, she could see as much as he stood in front of her with mouth slightly open and his blue eyes staring at her.

“Mimi.” That was all he could say. His mind was still busy trying to figure out if this, in front of his eyes, was really happening.

“It’s me.” She shrugged handing him a cup of coffee. It wasn’t hot any longer. Barely warm he realised as he sat down beside her.

“Please tell me, you didn’t sit here all night.” The policeman in him couldn’t help himself. Alone the thought of her alone in the dark made his head spin. Thankfully she was quick to place her hand on his arm before smiling at him. She hadn’t and he could breathe again.

“No, of course not.” Another smile. “I took the first train from Brighton.”

The place she needed to be at, he remembered. He wanted to say something. But he was unable to find the right words. He had never been a man of many words. Always chose his carefully. Always preferred to listen. It didn’t help him in that moment.

“It’s such a lovely place you know. All the wonderful buildings. The little shops. And the ocean. Have you ever been there?” She asked not looking at him.

“No.”

“I could have looked at it for hours. It’s so peaceful.” She sighed remembering the past day.

“But…”

“I’m here again you want to say? Bought you breakfast.” She replied holding up a bag from the bakery. “Scones. Croissants. Cinnamon rolls. I didn’t know what you normally eat for breakfast. What you would like.”

Oatmeal, he should have replied. Scones, croissants and cinnamon rolls, he thought.

“We might go inside? It’s getting cold.”

“Oh of course…Of course.” He replied helping her up. He wished she wouldn’t wear mittens so he could touch her skin. But only a fool would be outside without them on a day like this. He had forgotten his at home last night.

He watched her closely walking up the stairs in front of him. Still wondering why, she came back. To him. But he didn’t ask. Perhaps because he feared the answer. Perhaps because he didn’t dare to hope. Instead he hated himself for not getting her inside earlier. A girl like her shouldn’t be sitting outside in the cold.

He opened the door. It wasn’t much warmer inside. He went from room to room turning on the heaters. Must have been a while since he actually used them. He could have offered her one of his sweaters, but took a blanket with him instead.

“Thank you.” She smiled taking it from him. They both sat down on the sofa. His kitchen table full of paperwork.

“I have to admit I like a good scone…” He began to speak. “But I assume bringing me breakfast wasn’t the reason you came back?”

“No, it wasn’t.” She had to admit. She had found the courage to leave her friends in Brighton. To take the first train back to London. But sitting next to him, seeing him, she hardly found the words to explain.

“I could say that it was the only place I could go to. There is someone else living in my apartment now. But…”

“But? Was the party so bad? The guy you were supposed to meet?” He asked. Hearing that the person he liked, loved, was about to meet someone else, was something he never wanted to experience in his lifetime. He knew words could hurt. That moment they did.

“I didn’t meet him”. That took him by surprise. The second time with the last hour. She had spoken about the guy before she left. Rich family. Best education. Great job. No, he couldn’t compete with that. He was a realistic man.

“I checked him out online.” She shrugged.

“Online?”

“The internet, Edmund. The stuff you try to avoid because you think people share too much private information.”

“They do.”

“Yes, Inspector.” There was it again. That smile.

“But sometimes it’s a good thing, you know. Even just to figure out that some guys are idiots.” She could have gone on and on. Every picture she had seen of him. Every interview he gave to different magazines but there was no point in wasting more time and energy on him. She would just have to speak to her friends. What had they been thinking? A pretty face didn’t make a great person. At the end he hadn’t even been that good looking. Most likely lost it all through bad character.

He had gotten up to make tea. He could still hear her speak. His flat was that small. The guy. The party. Her friends. He wanted to know everything about her. And at the same time, he didn’t want to hear it all.

He sat down close to her when he came back. Unintentionally. She didn’t seem to mind. And not only because she was cold. He could see that much.

“What about…” He knew the other man wasn’t the only reason she had left. “Your words...”

_…I will be there for another 100 years._

“A hundred years in Whitechapel?” she asked looking straight into his eyes. She could see that those were the words he was thinking of. What changed her mind, he must be wondering. And she wondered if he couldn’t see it. It was right in front of her eyes.

“Yeah… the place hasn’t changed overnight. Still as grey and dirty as before.”

“You are right.” She whispered her words hardly audible. “But I was wrong.”

“What…” The other guy was out of it, he knew that much. She was with him. At his place. He has all reasons to hope. To smile. But the past had taught him not to do so. It was easier not to hope.

“I was wrong, Edmund.” She quickly said before the sadness in his eyes was able to take over his whole body. She didn’t know why, but the man in front her, seemed to carry all the sadness and sorrow of Whitechapel in his shoulders. As if there was no one else to help him.

“It’s true. There are better places than Whitechapel. Colourful places. Happier places. But it’s here, where I’m happy.” She said trying to find the right words for something she wasn’t able to understand herself. “It makes no sense, I know. But it’s true. I’m the happiest here. They say the waves of the ocean will carry away your sorrows. Your problems. You will feel free… Maybe for some that’s true. But not for me… What if the only problem you have is the person lacking next to you?”

“I…I. I don’t know.” He had to admit. Not daring to say one word too much as he watched her closely. He eyes were watery. Her mouth trembled. She tried to stop it. But couldn’t. He wanted to hold her. Nothing more. Just to hold her. But he let her speak instead.

“Oh my… This is turning into some cheap novelette, isn’t it.” She laughed as a single tear began to run down her face. She hated it. Wanted to stop it. But was unable to do so. “But…But I’d rather spend a hundred years in Whitechapel with you than…”

Suddenly he felt her lips on his own. It had been him who had closed the gap between the two of them. Him who had brushed off the tear on her face. Him who made the first move. He was the one taking him by surprise this time. He didn’t dare to think. Or even to breathe. He only knew he didn’t want to stop.

But she did. Smiled at him doing so.

“I thought you need some oxygen.” She grinned. “It’s quite charming that a man forgets to breathe because of me but I do not intend to spend the rest of the day in hospital because you passed out.”

“And what do you intend to do the rest of the day?” He wanted to know. He knew what he had in mind. Knew what she had in mind. But he wanted to hear it. Needed to hear it.

“Hm…” She thought out loud to tease him. “First we continue what we started. The talking, you know. I liked that.” She moved over to sit on his lap. Her face so close to his that he could feel her breath on his skin. “And then… the kissing. I really liked that too. Talking and kissing. And then…”

“And then?”

“Then we stop talking.”

And they did. Stopped talking. For a while no words were needed between the two of them as their hands and lips did all talking. Until he had to tell her the story of the scar on his upper lip as she moved her fingers along it. Bicycle accident. He had been five. His front tooth hadn’t been so lucky. And he figured out she was ticklish. Neck. Stomach. His cold hands helped him to find that out. So did his beard stubbles. And she was cute when she laughed out loud. He would never get tired of her laugh, he knew it.

They ordered dinner later that day. Chinese. Something they both liked.

“Edmund?” She said quietly after she had realised, she couldn’t avoid the topic any longer. It had gotten dark long ago. The hours had passed quickly.

“I do keep a spare toothbrush in my bathroom in case my electric one suddenly stops working.” That had actually never happened but he liked to be prepared. One never knew. “I do not have a guest bedroom though. But a comfortable sofa.”

“I know.” She loved to hear him talk. It made her smile how carefully he chose his words to hide his nervousness.

“I mean I take the sofa. You the bed. I changed the bedding yesterday.” He was an idiot. He knew as much when he heard himself saying these words. An idiot.

“Or we both could…” She knew he would never say it. “We are both adults. We can keep our hands to ourselves, can’t we?” She teased him. The poor guy was really nervous.

“What if I can’t? Stay… away… from you?” he stuttered.

“Then, I think, I will enjoy my stay here even more.” She smiled and he relaxed. The woman would be the death of him. A slow one. Most likely painful. But he was willing to take it.

“Under one condition, Mimi.” He said. Taking her by surprise this time.

“And that is?” For once she couldn’t read him. Didn’t know what he had in mind.

“You stay.” The words leaving his mouth faster than he could think. “I mean, not only for the night.”

“Okay.”

“Only if you want of course. You don’t have to...” But I really want you to, he thought.

“And how long am I supposed to stay?” Forever, she thought.

“A hundred years.” He said.


End file.
